How to Say Goodbye
by profmom72
Summary: Because daisy3853 did this a year ago, I feel the need to post this little story. My fill in the blank after Season 3. Should be short and sweet.
1. Chapter 1

I did not say goodbye.

How could I? I mean I was the asshole who beat the crap out of her boyfriend and who walked fist first into the Russian mafia. It was time to get the hell out of Dodge, and cowards don't ride their horses down Main Street, firing their guns into the sky and yelling yippee-ki-yay, mother fucker.

They slink out in the middle of the night with a couple of duffle bags—when you live in a hotel, there's not much to take.

So, no goodbye. I drove past her apartment. A few local reporters were camped out. She and her dad were news now. Not TMZ-worthy, but still, I sat in the car clenching and unclenching my fists about a million times. It took a lot of deep breathing to convince myself that I shouldn't take their cameras and smash them into a mission pieces. Where had that ever gotten me anyway?

Yeah, I know. Right here.

For a long time, I wondered if I'd have gotten out of my car if they hadn't been there? Would I have had the balls to knock on her door? To say … something.

Probably not. Besides, I would have said all the wrong things. Because really, there were no right words. I could have said, "I know I should apologize, but I'm not sorry. You're one of only two people who ever looked at me and didn't assume the worst. At least for a while anyway. For that, I'll fight anything that ever threatens to hurt you."

It would have pissed her off more.

A real apology would have been a lie, and I was so fucking sick of lies and games.

No, leaving was better.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for reading. I've had most of this short little fill in hanging around on my hard drive for about a year, but it's still taking some time to get it where I want it to be.**

"I'm just saying, it's fucked up, Dude."

"What is?" I asked, not sure whether Dick meant me going or him staying or something else entirely. As if there wasn't enough to choose from. I wasn't about to push him too much.

He shrugged and gave his head a slight shake which made his hair fall back over his eyes.

I knew Dick wouldn't exactly clap and jump up and down and squeal like a little girl when I told him I was taking off for South America anyway. It was supposed to be "our" trip. Still, something about his reaction made me nervous. I couldn't quite read his tone or his face. One of the things I loved best about Dick-and yes I know it's hard to imagine there was more than one, but after so many years, the list was long—was that he's usually easy to read. This was a rare exception. I already felt guilty about it. He's been so out control since he announced his dad was back. Not quite as bad as he was right after Beaver—Cassidy—jumped, but close enough to have me on edge.

"You could still come along," I said. It was a half-assed suggestion. Loved the guy, but I was a lone cowboy now. Wanted: Dean or Alive. Steel horse be damned. What else could I do?

For about a second and a half, I think he considered it, and I held my breath, trying to figure out how to get out of this. I was running to hide, sure, but I was pretty sure they'd find me, and I was hoping to be as far away from Neptune and the couple of people who gave a shit about my sorry ass as possible when that happened.

Then he shook his head, pushing the hair out of his eyes. "No sense pissing off pops and ending up penniless."

Then he downed the rest of the beer in his hand, burped, and plopped down on the coach with the remote. He didn't look at me as he leaned back into the cushions.

"When are you coming back?"

I sauntered toward the coach sat down next to him.

"Not sure." I tipped the bottle of my own beer and pretended to gulp hard.

His head tilted in my direction. "Wait, you are coming back right?" One part curious. One part desperate. Made me one part guilty has hell.

"Probably." I had no fucking clue. I was still sure that the Russians were going to off me by the morning.

"Are you running away, Logan?" Direct. Lucid. Real. Just like when he asked me about Madison. Or whether I'd tried to stop his brother from jumping off the roof. He caught me off guard, and I had to swallow hard. Don't fuck it up, Logan. Again.

"Maybe a little. Thought it was time for a different kind of trouble for a while." He fumbled with the remote, running his fingers on the numbers. I knew he knew I was bullshitting. Takes one to know one. No one plays dumb blond better than Dick. Neither of was too used to honest conversation. I was half tempted to make some comment about breaking out the nail polish and wine coolers, but then he took it up a notch.

"Is this about her?"

I slid down farther into the couch and let my head fall back. Her face. Always half exhilaration, half unadulterated disappointment.

"No. Not really." Yes, of course. "Just need to get away." I hadn't told him about the fight in the cafeteria. He knew about Piz, sure. Like that wasn't enough of a sign.

Dick's eyes fell for a second, and then he shrugged. "Think I'll stay and bond with Daddy Dearest."

I nodded. I could understand if he really did want to stay. Sometimes I wondered if a fucked up family was better than no family at all. On the other hand, maybe no one else could see it, but a part of what had always driven his over-the-top personality was that fucked up family. Not sure a summer with pops was going to be good for the man.

Then I remember Sorokin's voice. "You'll die for this."

Dick's definitely better off with dad, than with me.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading. I just go through the whole series and the movie again. Sigh. I miss them again already.**

My knuckles were still swollen. Just enough that the woman who took my credit card narrowed her eyes and glanced up at my face. Whatever marks Piz had managed to leave were pretty well faded. And I'd taken Gory by surprise. Good, I'd thought, at least when I looked in the mirror, I wouldn't have to see the evidence, but you'd be surprised how often you look at your hands in a day. Turning on water. Opening a door or your wallet. A split second glimpse at the red welts. And of course, it hurt to make a fist. Funny, right? The thing that came so easily just days before, now made me wince.

What was it about punching something … or someone … that felt so good? Maybe good's not the right word. Every time my first made contact with Piz's face, it was like I had a super power—KAPOW.

Problem is—in the movies, the hero always gets the right villain.

I thought about changing my identity. Really trying to disappear. With the right-sized check, I'm sure I could have done it. There were too many moments in those last few days when I wasn't sure I didn't want to be found. Que Sera, Sera and all that. Will I be rich? Will I be pretty? Will I be dead?

Other than the drive-by of Veronica's place and the one-on-one with Dick, the only other stop I made was to my mom's bridge-grave. I could have just ended it all right then. If I was going to join her anyway … TMZ would have loved that. Two things kept my feet not so firmly on the safe side of the railing. They never found her, and like I said, I still wasn't sure I didn't want to be found. Second, they never found her, and while I know she's done there somewhere logically, sometimes, I wasn't sure she still wouldn't be found, too.

I just needed a place to go. I only half lied to Dick. It was and it wasn't about Veronica. I mean obviously it was; I just couldn't stay away from her if we were in the same zip code. I couldn't stop trying to fight her battles. At the time I didn't know that the battles I was really fighting were my own, and I just used the faces of Veronica's enemies as a substitute, but I did know I couldn't keep watching her and it wasn't fun anymore now that she'd stopped watching me back.

So, as I finished out finals my hands raw and bruised, all the names Dick mentioned kept popping into my head. Santa Carina, La Paloma, Montanita. Far away. Different.

I hit five South American countries in three months, but I didn't do the fancy house thing Dick had planned. If you can call anything Dick does a plan. I hung out in the villages. Hooked up with wanders, like me. Surfers. I spent a few weeks with a couple of guys from Australia who were on an "epic" world tour.

Jordan and Matt might have been their real names, but I called them Bill and Ted the whole time. I don't know if they ever got the reference. Jordan reminded me a lot of Dick without the tortured soul thing to give him any depth. Blond, burly, not a care in the world—except maybe which party to go to. Matt was tougher to figure out. Quiet, maybe like 5' 10". He didn't say much. He didn't drink as much. Both totally likeable, good-time guys. They didn't seem to be escaping anything. I might have liked them more if they had been. They were almost too clean for me. Maybe, I preferred the day-old jeans to the freshly washed pair, you know? It was easy to blend with them and whatever crowd they found. Maybe for the first time ever, I went with their flow.

Sun and sand and salt. A perfectly blue sky meeting an even more perfectly blue ocean. Some beer. Okay, a lot of beer. The water wasn't doing enough to drown my senses. No women, though.

Not after the Madison thing. I wasn't about to go for vengeful, missing Veronica, desperation sex again. Not that I was holding out any hope of us ever getting back together and her finding out. No, hope had left the building with me inside, trapped forever.

Maybe I couldn't get out of the building, but at the end of those few months, I was able to open a window, to let a little air in. It had taken a full month before I stopped looking over my shoulder every five minutes. One more before I slept through the night. By the end of the summer, there were decisions to make, or not really. I think I always knew I wasn't heading back to Hearst in the fall, or Neptune for that matter. I needed more time.

So, when Bill and Ted suggested I go with them to Hawaii, I said, "Bodacious."

 **E/N: Just my thoughts on Logan's time after Season 3 ended. What do you think? Why Hawaii?**


End file.
